Bittersweet Times
by Ark12
Summary: SeeD's are tasked with a heavy burden so one can only imagine the toll it must take on the SeeD commander let alone the one he's sworn his life to.
1. Pain

_A good-bye is only painful if you know you'll never say hello again_

_Unknown_

_

* * *

_

"Remember me," she whispered, her lips tickling the side of his face as the warm air of her voice kissed his ear gently.

"How could I ever forget," his was soft, a whisper to match her own but retaining its trained edge even in its silence.

It was consistent. A steady constant, just like he was, just like she had come to rely on.

"I mean it," she whispered as her face drew impossibly closer, her lips now dancing near his ear lobe. Yet in spite of it all her voice became softer, more desperate, and even to harder to hear.

But the feeling remained…no the feeling grew!

"But if anything," she paused for a moment, a sudden unsteadiness in her words as she spoke, "if worse comes to worse, come back to me," her arms, which had been rather firmly seated around his neck beforehand, seemed to tighten and what was once firm became tight as a the quivering in her breathing hitched its normal cadence. "Come back to me," her voice dropped impossibly lower but with a firmness in its next speech, "alive."

There was a heavy silence between them, comfortable mind you but heavy nonetheless.

He would break the silence; he would answer.

"I know."

(xXx)

Squall would stand on the aft watch deck staring at the horizon till the Balamb pier disappeared, then till sun started to set, until finally the moon had risen to full mast centered in the sky, its luminance accentuated by the violet back drop of the darkness of space. Where the stars, unhindered by the pollution and lights of man, would mingle in the background like diamonds placed on display on the velvet sheet of the sky.

Irvine would later comment one day off handedly, that he saw him, Squall, there that night, clutching something close to his chest with an unreadable expression on his face before laughing a bit boisterously about how all his faces were unreadable. But as he would settle down his voice turned sincere, a sorrowing to its usual jovialness, as he'd finish his thought.

"His face was unreadable but his eyes were telling. They shown brighter then the moon that night I reckon."

(xXx)

Rinoa stood on the pier just till the ship was gone before she turned away, running past several stragglers that had decided to remain just as long as she but opting for a more _memorable _walk down depressions lane. She'd nigh broken the door off the hinges of the Garden duty vehicle before it would finally open and throwing herself in before slamming the door shut to hide herself inside.

She rested her head on the steering wheel; ebon black bangs framing the sides of her face as the car was suddenly filled with the sound of her unsteady breathing. One might assume it from the sudden sprint to the car but then it could've just as easily been because of the departure of her soul as well.

They wouldn't know, she didn't even know why so either. All she knew was it hurt and the farther and farther that ship went the more and more the pain in her chest grew. She felt cold, yet hot, and stretched thin. And the harder she tried to breathe the harder it was to breathe.

Knight's didn't forget…did they? Would he?

And the more she blinked, the more tears would follow.

(xXx)

* * *

**PAIN**

_mental or emotional suffering or torment_

* * *

**a/n: **so after a year in total hibernation and almost 4 years in complete back burner-ing (word?) I jotted down a few sporadic thoughts and pieced them together into this little thing. Looking back at to what BS (hah) really was I have no idea just wtf I was doing at the time. That's not to say that I know what I'm doing now, because I really don't, but I do feel that I've marginalized my thoughts and found just what it was I was looking to create (or at least begin to create) when I molded this little _drabble_, so to speak. Nevertheless BS (haha) will never be an epic story on a grand scale (something I envisioned 5 years ago) but rather a story told in sensible _snippets or drabbles._ Therefore please do enjoy my resurrection (both literally and literature-ly so to speak) for the time being and I look forward to continuing on with you, the readers.

**- ark12**


	2. Dreams

_But I, being poor, have only my dreams; I have spread my dreams under your feet. Tread softly because you tread on my dreams_.

_W.B. Yeats_

* * *

Power had a price. It always did and it always would.

But power borrowed was borrowed time. Time ill gotten and time that would soon consume.

And consume slowly till nothing was left.

He turned in his sleep…

There was a pressure in his head that would not abate and he knew the reason behind it. He saw it in his dreams.

Or were they the dreams of those who shared the intimate dwelling of his mind with him? He'd long since forgotten what it was to dream his own dreams. Now his nights were restful respites to the tune of a thousand lucid tongues that conversed within him.

He'd forfeited his right to self when he became Commander.

He turned in his sleep.

_if anything…_if he was dreaming then he was dreaming in color. Vivid colors of soft blues and white streaks in the endless infinity of the sky.

"Wake up…"

Or perhaps he was just staring at the sky to begin with…and the sound of her voice that played against the backdrop like a symphony was the ever present song that sung to him in her absence.

…_come back to me…_

"Squall,"…_alive._

His eyes snapped open and he was met with darkness as his mind went silent and the world came too.

"You good," it was Irvine.

"What is it?"

"The coast, 30 mikes, we can see the _Conflict_," simple, short and too the point. He was focused, his usual playfulness replaced by an edge of seriousness that only imminent battle could provide.

He was up and moving before he could even answer, "I'll be on the bow," was all he said as the sound of his footsteps echoed like thunder as entered the p-way.

On the deck of the bow he surveyed the night. The blackness of the sea stretched out endlessly in all directions save north where lights played along the backdrop of the darkness like the embers of a dying firework.

The pressure on his mind had begun to fade, the constant ache backing away as clarity took its place.

And yet his focus, while clear on the task at hand, began to drift back to his dreams. Back to the sky and how it stretched, waxen like a sheet: taut and clean. He closed his eyes as the dull hum of the ship's engine began to fade and night became day and the endless noises of the world silenced as a ghost of her voice raised above the cacophony of sound in his slumbering mind, like a melody from heaven above.

_Come back to me…alive…_

And a knight would grasp something close to his chest in the night and raise his sights to the sky and whisper something only the wind would hear but his soul could feel, sending it a thousand miles, thinking…

(xXx)

The Balamb Garden central mainframe was a landmark in technology surpassed only by the grand city Esthar to the far east. A virtual draw point system conceived both of man-made technology and magick, it served as both a resource and resource storage system. The intricacies of the system were, to say the least, beyond layman conceivability.

"You should come with me today Rinoa."

"I dunno Quistis," Rinoa replied limply from behind a terminal in one of the classrooms, idly fiddling around the Balamb net, trying, in vain, to distract herself from the urgings of her slender companion.

"You've been moping around for the better part of two days," the instructor pointedly noted as she crossed her arms across her chest, fixing her friend with a patented instructor disapproving glance, "it'll do you good to get out there and…stretch your wings, metaphorically speaking."

A small chuckle and a raised eyebrow, "you could add literally to that statement as well."

"You know what I mean. But in all seriousness you should come. You know how eager cadets can be during their field exams," Quistis implored, "it'll pass the time just that much quicker," she smiled, "at least for today."

Melancholy was the name of her smile as her eyes, tired and worried, lightened if only for a moment in the silence between her friend's request and her own staggering response.

It was hard. Waiting was never easy and good-byes made it just that much more difficult.

Maybe she was right. Time passed by at a crawl when she was alone, with nothing but her thoughts and worries to accompany her regardless of whether she was awake or not. Vicious thoughts taunted her while violent images haunted her dreams.

She couldn't help it. It was in her nature to worry.

"Alright," Rinoa sighed, with a smile of course, "I'll help quell the heard with you."

"I knew you would," Quistis smiled triumphantly as she made her way to her desk.

"No, you didn't, but you know what strings to pull and when and that's why you're a manipulative…instructor," Rinoa teased as she accessed the Garden mainframe to draw out a GF, as to which she hadn't decided.

"Hardy har har, that was mean," Quistis rebuked as she collected her belongings and made for the door, turning back, "Shiva should be more then enough, its only the fire cavern after all."

"I was thinking the same but I think the server is down," Rinoa replied offhandedly as she stared intently at the terminal.

"What are you getting at? The server is never down, it was working just a second ago."

"Well then explain to me this: why are there no GFs in the holding pen," Rinoa asked as she looked up from the screen.

"What are you talking about," Quistis huffed as she made her way back to the instructor terminal, "the holding pen is always online and look the server is up and…"

"…and?"

"They're not there," Quistis replied gravely as she looked up from her terminal and at her friend.

"This…isn't good," Rinoa muttered as she once more went through the startup menu and into the GF pen with no success. "The GF pen is a executive level clearance draw," Rinoa stated as she stared at the blank screen before looking up at Quistis.

"Aside from Headmaster Cid you, myself, Irvine, Zell, Selphie and Squall are the only ones with access to them," Quistis recounted as she browsed through the draw logs.

"Zell is on leave in Balamb with his mother so there's no feasible explanation for him to have taken one GF let alone _16_," Rinoa added.

"And Selphie has been swamped with the planning for the holiday bash with the Garden Festival committee for the past month," Quistis replied in turn.

"I know Squall and Irvine just left, but," Rinoa bit her lower lip as she looked at Quistis's face as she queried the logs," we agreed to restrict GF use to a maximum of 3 each for any extended period of time. And Irvine doesn't junction GFs to begin with, so where are the other 13," Rinoa questioned to herself hesitantly.

There was an uneasy silence in the air as Quistis looked up from her terminal a haunted look on her face as Rinoa met her gaze with something akin to absolute dread.

"Please don't tell me…"

Quistis could only nod.

"There with him."

Rinoa could feel it. The thrumming in her chest as it began to tighten and her eyes turned towards the window and out towards the endless sea as the creeping dread that she had quiesced began to rear its head with a vengeance.

_Squall…_

* * *

**DREAMS**_  
a succession of images, thoughts, or emotions passing through the mind during sleep  
_

* * *

**a/n: **The ending was kind of rushed. Okay it was really rushed. Rinoa's parts seem kind of lame to me so far so next update will have a bit more feeling to it. There are 16 GFs right?

**-ark12**


	3. Guidance

_But I hold on and I feel strong and I know that I can…_

_Above & Beyond Pres. Oceanlab - On A Good Day_

_

* * *

_

_I can hear them…_

Sorceress are said to be able to feel the ebb and flow of magic and any hint of disturbance in its natural flow; from creation to usage. Magick was an element of Terra, the Earth, much akin to precious metals in value and dragon hide in rarity, yet that much more valuable.

With that being said it was doubly true for Guardian Forces. GF's were just as their name stated, Guardian Forces of Terra. Once thought to be creatures of automaton nature, the discovery of their sentience brought about a new piece to the puzzle behind another mystery of the world. Corporeal forms of magic with the ability for self reasoning.

Yet that information was privy only to a select few.

_Their voices are resonating along the connection…within me…within him; us…_

When a sorceress claims her knight their bond is immense, inseparable, and everlasting.

But the bond between sorceress and magic is like air and water to the human body.

She opened her eyes and silver raced across them, replacing once compassionate brown with a reflection of the moon against the backdrop of the night sky.

"Their in conflict," she whispered, more unto herself then her companion in travel…

"Who is? Squall and Irvine you mean?"

"Yes…but so are _they_," Rinoa spoke, emphasizing the plurality.

"All of them," Quistis voice raised in question to a disbelieving octave at the statement, "but why would he do that?"

"I can't…I don't know," Rinoa replied, gripping the rails of the docked ship as she cast her eyes, now fading between their normal brown color and the silver of the magic that coursed through her veins, a slight sheen present in them, "all I can feel is him and _their _presence within him," she spoke watching as a flock of gulls rested on the waves of the gently lapping sea just beyond the pier.

"All of _them_…"

And a rumble of thunder echoed over the cloudless sky…

_What's wrong Squall?_

(xXx)

He was a King.

Not in a royal sense. He wasn't a born noble or a petulant socialite child living off the fame and fortune of his family name, nor apart of no prestigious bloodline. Even if his estranged father, with whom he had no contact with for the majority of his life, just so happened to be President of the most technologically advanced civilization on the planet granted him little in matters where he presided.

But he was still a King.

But not of people; he wasn't a king of men and women, or a populace or anything of the sort. While his position as 'Commander of Balamb Mercenary forces: SeeD' may have afforded him privileges in a militaristic sense that could be roughly equated to the influence a King may have wielded it still didn't make him king.

And yet he was still a King.

He dodged left, rolled, bounced up, dashed forward, stretched his arms high, tweaked his body to the left, tightened his grip, narrowed his vision and focused.

He slashed with the force of a hurricane and the precision of a bolt of lightning as he cut a swath through his enemies, neither seeing nor hearing them as the sky fell down around him and turned the world into varying shades of black and white and grey painted against the backdrop of a carnal scarlet canvas.

He was a King of battle. His Kingdom was War. His subjects, conflict.

It was an ugly thing; combat. He wasn't proud of what he was, of the things he did, but neither did he deny it. He didn't embrace his profession but he did accept it.

It was all he was.

Everything he'd been trained to be since he was merely a boy lead up to these moments in time when life and death became the same color upon the empty canvas of fate. His innocence as a child was taken from him the moment he stepped onto the Balamb campus. He didn't choose to become what he'd become but he'd assumed the mantle before he'd ever deny it.

And he'd carry the weight of the world on his shoulders…

He held a hand to his face as he closed his eyes in meditation; slowly drawing out the power within him even as the howl of the next flock of enemy grew louder with every passing moment over the precipice…

His eyes reflected the storm in the distance as he slowly allowed them to open, revealing the streaking lightning across the thunder clouds in his eyes as the sudden storm above heralded the arrival of a force of nature that only a god could envision. As the magic swirled up, around, and through him as he released the last gate inhibiting imminent power's arrival; dropping the mental barriers within him and letting the power of a god course through him.

With a roar entirely inhuman he let loose a rage that was not entirely his own as the heavenly condor's fury swept across the sky and ravaged his enemies…

Yes, he thought…He would bear this burden alone before he let another get swept up in the near uncontrollable groundswell of bloodlust that defined this power.

He had to because he cared for _them_…for _her_…

_Rinoa…_

But he didn't know how to care…

So he showed it the only way he could…

By doing so…alone…because that was what a good King did; sacrificed.

He was a King.

* * *

**GUIDANCE**

_that which is borne with difficulty; obligation; onus_

* * *

**a/n: **So I had a tremendously difficult time with this chapter and I still think it blows. Just for clarity's sake and my own peace of mind I'll elaborate on the complex processes of my working mind when it comes to writing. I don't outline anything I go with the flow of my creative muse. Sometimes my muse gives me everything I need while other times she gifts me only a few crumbs of insight. Its both incredibly frustrating while incredibly rewarding as well. Anyway I don't feel like I delivered anything for Rinoa and am really disappointed in that facet. I also think I might be making this story a little _too abstract for anyone to follow._ Hopefully my muse decides to gift me with some clarity in the coming chapters. That and simplicity.


	4. Perseverance

_There we were, gazing back at the horizon, a thousand thoughts streaming through our minds as the sky turned to cyan. _

_Anonymous _

* * *

**When they were younger**

"_What are you looking at now," she asked with a curious inflection._

_For his part he was stunned, momentarily caught off guard though his body betrayed nothing save for a tick along his right finger and the clarity in his usually guarded eyes._

"_Nothing much."_

"_Hmm, I find that very hard to believe Mr. Leonhart," she quipped sarcastically, a small smile playing at her lips._

"…_whatever," they replied in unison. He turned to face her, eyebrow cocked in a mock annoyance as she giggled._

"_So predictable commander," she smiled, "I think you may just be losing your edge."_

"_Maybe you're right," he replied stoically after a brief moment of silence, his gaze never leaving its focus in the distance, "I am getting old."_

_The silence stretched between them for a moment before he turned his eyes to the side to look at her and take in the sight of her lower jaw as it hung down in open disbelief._

"_Catching flies Madame Heartily?"_

"_Y-you…I mean, it wasn't…I was…and…"_

_What followed was as rare as lightning striking the same place twice; Squall smiled._

"_Enunciate your words Miss Heartily," a subtle, subtle playfulness just barely audible in his voice could be heard, "and finish your sentences. It makes it easier to converse with you when you do."_

_She'd thought she'd been dreaming before, now she wasn't so sure she wasn't trapped in a slip space time warp twilight zone._

"_Are," she paused as she lowered her voice, "are you teasing me?"_

_He leaned forward, just a tad, "…excuse me?"_

"_No! I mean…, oh I don't know," Rinoa's hands clasped around her rapidly reddening face. "I'm sorry Squall…dear Hyne I could die right now."_

_Did lightning strike three times?_

_Squall laughed; neither soft or reserved nor was it hidden behind his hand but shown, without hesitance as Rinoa's head snapped up, her eyes wide open and mouth, once again, catching flies._

_His mirth never seemed to fade as his laughter turned into his voice, "too easy Rinoa."_

_Her face betrayed her intentions as a grin so wide it begged to split her face in two began to form._

"_Meanie!"_

"_Whatever."_

(xXx)

_Where are you right now?_

Squall stumbled to the ground; Lionheart falling noiselessly from his hands and into the soft pad of snow as he drew a ragged breath in and a shaky breath out. His hand clenched tightly around his head, as his vision blurred and he started to become colder then he'd already been since arriving to this Hyne forsaken wasteland.

How many times had he gone through the motions and the result always been the same?

Ten times? A hundred? A thousand? Ten thousand? He'd never really cared to keep track or perhaps it was just that he'd never bothered to as the result was always the same. But then again Murphy's Law

_Are you thinking of me?_

He sat back, situating himself on his heels, his breathing still a harsh stridor; a deafening sound that pierced the deadly silence that pervaded the land post conflict. The moon hung high in the sky shining like an unblemished pearl its sheen reflecting off the visible white of what little was left of untainted snow.

_It shouldn't be like this…_he growled internally as his vision began to grey and blur as the cold had already started to seep into the marrow of his bones. He struggled, the warm gout of sanguine that had been steadily dripping from his nose refusing to cease as his head lolled back, _it shouldn't be this hard…_

He couldn't see straight anymore, the world was spinning on a foreign axis it seemed causing a tilting in his vision like a rusted see-saw as the war drums of a thousand nations beat mercilessly in his head.

_You, above all the others, should've, known better…_

"…be quiet!"

_You are strong mortal! But not strong enough! Not for this!_

"I said be quiet!"

_Your cowardice is your biggest weakness boy! _

"I said shut up!" He cried out into the silent night as he arched over, body bending and hands clenched over his ears consciously trying to block out a sound, the voices, that he knew he had know control over.

"I know," he began softly after several long moments of silence had passed, "I know what I did," he paused "what I'm doing, isn't…the best way."

He reared his head up, looking at the sky, "but it's the safest way…for her."

_Its snowing again, Rinoa._

(xXx)

"What do you mean you don't know where he is?"

_Its like I said before and like I'm gonna say again Quistis, he didn't come back._

"Well why the hell did you let him go alone?"

_He wasn't alone! He was with…_

"You know exactly what I meant Irvine! Why didn't you go with him!"

_I did! We were just at opposite ends of the same conflict!"_

"Dammit Irvine…"

_Look Quistis I'm sorry! I hope you know I didn't mean for this to happen and had I known he'd taken _ALL_ of them with him I'd hope you trust I'd have done the right thing._

(silence)

"Irvine its me."

_Rinoa, darlin'…_

"Can…can you just talk to me…"

_Anything for you Rin. How you holdin' up?_

"I've been better."

_I can believe that…_

(silence)

"How…"

(silence)

"How was he?"

_He…he wa-is good when I saw him. Was thinking a lot._

"Hehe…sounds like him."

_Yea…_

(silence)

"Hey Irvine."

_Yea?_

"Was…was he, I dunno alright? Was he eating right? Did he look. I dunno different? I can't find the words I'm looking for without coming off sounding like some worrisome mother."

_Hey Rinoa._

"Yes?"

_He was and is fine._

"…"

_This is Squall were talkin' about Rinoa. And I know you know better then me, better then Quistis, better then anyone for that matter that he's fine. I don't know what the hell is ever going through that Commander brain of his but I know one thing, he ain't no dumb ass Rinoa. This is Squall we're talkin about. Squall's the best. The best of all of us._

(silence)

"Irvine…"

_Yea…_

"Thank you…"

_I'll see y'all when you get here._

* * *

**PERSEVERANCE**

steady persistence in a course of action, a purpose, a state, etc., especially in spite of difficulties, obstacles, or discouragement.

* * *

**a/n:** Victory in 1000 words! So to speak.


End file.
